But she was not a person; she had nothing to do with his progress.
The person who had to do with it was, of course, his father.

That night when his friend had left him had been, indeed, a crisis, because it was on that night that his father had come to him.

It was not that he had not been aware of his father before, but he had been aware of him only as he had been aware of light and heat and food.

Now it had become a definite wonder as to whether this new friend had been sent to take the place of the old one.

Certainly the new friend had very little to do with all that old life of which the fountain was the door.